The muscles in her legs were contracting painfully.
She rested her hands on his chest, but they didn't stay, instead running over the muscles of his chest and around to his back.
The muscles in her legs felt numb.
Dusty's jaw clenched until he felt the muscles tick.
She felt both awed and terrified watching his rippling, shapely muscles move beneath the olive skin.
The muscles on his chest and arms were not well defined.
By the time she reached the top of the hill, the muscles in her legs were aching.
The movement brought a painful awareness of how stiff her muscles were becoming.
He towered over them both, the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining against his shirt as he hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans.
His hands worked up her back moving gradually as he massaged every inch of the muscles on either side of her spine.
The muscles in Howard's jaws worked with rage.
His jaw muscles worked.
He glanced at the whip and his jaw muscles worked.
Actually, her legs felt like stumps and her groin muscles were knotted with pain.
Suddenly strong fingers began working her shoulder muscles, delightfully descending to the muscles on either side of her spine.
Instead, her fingers slid across the smooth muscles and up to his neck, drawing his mouth down harder on hers.
She pushed away from the ground stiffly and rubbed at the sore muscles in her back while she surveyed the house.
He doesn't have complete control of his muscles yet.
His long, sleek hair was tied in a tight braid, and despite the cold and wind he wore only a long-sleeved sweater that hugged the muscles of his arms and shoulders beneath a down vest.
She was soon soaked by a light drizzle and stretched to keep her stiffening muscles warm.
Her eyes traveled over the image of him training others, his whip-like upper body bare to reveal the roped muscles of his shoulders and chest, the tucked waist and flat abs.
There was a chill, but once Dean began warming his muscles he felt comfortable in this familiar posture.
She didn't remember his passion, the way he tasted and smelled and felt, or the movement of his muscles beneath taut, smooth skin.
Yet he still couldn't control his facial muscles or speak.
Lacing fingers behind her neck, she arched back, feeling the muscles in her back stretch.
His jaw was clenched and ticking as the muscles jumped.
By the time she clawed her way over the edge, she was soaked with sweat and panting, her muscles burning from effort.
His muscles were so bunched, they ached when he shook them free.
He relaxed and tested the muscles of his arm again, dissatisfied with being injured.
The muscles of his upper body bulged as he sparred, their changing shapes amplified by a play of shade and sunlight.
His back was towards her, the expanse of golden skin stretched over bulging muscles startling her.
It was taking his muscles a long time to stretch.
Vara's jaw clenched hard enough for muscles on either side to tick.
The thought of a hot bath made her muscles quake with anticipation.
He ate and sipped the cider, its warmth making his muscles relax.
Her breathing was labored, her chest burning and muscles shaking from the demon's abuse of her body.
Her muscles were tense enough to ache.
He loved war, the all consuming sensations of battle from the metallic scent of weapons and blood to the burn of his muscles as he fought beyond his normal capabilities.
Her muscles felt relaxed for the first time in weeks.
He was covered in sweat, the muscles of his exposed back rippling with his movement.
She could think of nothing more than his bare skin against hers, of the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers.
The tall Guardian was built like a model with the long, lean muscles of a ballerina.